


Why Won't You Look At Me?

by PrussiaIsntDead



Series: Please Look At Me [1]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Not Beta Read, We Die Like Men, ghost - Freeform, i really like writing fics where tubbo dies huh, idk how to tag this its literally, just ghost tubbo being ghost, man, tubbox go brrrr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:33:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27342022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrussiaIsntDead/pseuds/PrussiaIsntDead
Summary: Tubbo never liked the quiet.
Relationships: Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit
Series: Please Look At Me [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1996606
Comments: 10
Kudos: 288





	Why Won't You Look At Me?

**Author's Note:**

> Part One of the Please Look At Me series. Part Two coming soon.

The house was quiet. That’s what made it so scary. The house was usually bustling with life and noise, which was one of the things that made it so homey. Right now, however, it was dead silent. If something dropped on the carpet downstairs, there was no doubt that one would be able to hear said object falling from upstairs. The silence was unnerving, uncanny. It made him want to scream out, just so there would be something there. The house truly felt dead.

Tubbo had wondered why he had woken up so well-rested that morning. Looking over at the clock, he figured out that it was around eleven in the morning. Normally, he woke up from pots and pans crashing together, or Tommy screaming about something, or Wilbur’s foot tapping in a futile attempt to keep him from rushing his music. He had gotten three more hours of sleep. It felt odd, unsafe, even. 

He stretched as he got out of bed. It was Saturday, so Tubbo didn’t bother changing out of his pajamas which consisted of one of Wilbur’s band t-shirts, underwear, and crew cut socks. He stretched his arms above his head, leaning back. He sighed as he felt his back pop, along with his fingers seconds later. 

Looking around his room, it looked queerly clean. He swore he remembered having at least two cups and a plate on the nightstand, but Tubbo failed to find them. He brushed it off as having a bad memory, and stepped out of his room. He looked to his left. The hallway was empty, no music could be heard from Wilbur’s room. On his right, it was the same eerie silence. Tommy wasn’t yelling at anything and Techno wasn’t knocking on the walls telling Tommy to quiet down. 

Tubbo stepped downstairs, careening his head to see if anyone was in the living room. He was ecstatic when he saw Tommy sitting on the couch, reading. Techno wasn’t too far away, sitting in an armchair and polishing a skull, which looked to be of the bovidae family. The ram’s horns were large and looped around. Tubbo felt bad for the goat it came from.

Tubbo raced down the stairs, probably breaking the record for the housemates’ fastest time down the stairs. Usually there would be a stopwatch involved, but alas. He ran over to the couch Tommy was on; the blond was laying on the arm of the lounge. Tubbo sat down, reaching out for Tommy, but paused when the other shivered.

“Did someone forget to turn the heater on?” Tommy asked, looking up at Techno.

Techno was focused on the bone in front of him, and did not meet Tommy’s gaze. “If you’re so cold, you should be wearing a jacket.”

“I’m not cold, though! It was warm before and it just now got cold!”

“That sounds like a you problem, my guy.” Tommy sighed, placing a bookmark between two pages and shutting his novel. Tubbo thought it was funny that they were paying him no mind. That is, until Tommy walked past him without even sparing a glance in his direction.

Tubbo stood up abruptly, trotting after his friend. “Tommy? Tommy, what’s going on?” He asked. “Why are you ignoring me? Please stop walking away from me!” Tubbo called. His skin was beginning to crawl. Some part of him didn’t think it was a joke anymore. 

Tommy stopped in the hallway, looking at the thermostat on the wall. He wasn’t going to touch it, Phil would kill him, he was just making sure he wasn’t crazy. Twenty-five-and-a-half celsius. He stood there for a minute or two, trying to make sense of why he felt so cold. Maybe he’d ask Phil if he could turn the temperature up. 

He rubbed the back of his neck, and froze when he felt the faint outline of a hand under his. Tommy quickly pulled his hand away and whipped around, confused when nobody was behind him. His eyebrows knitted together to form an expression of slight anger.

Tubbo watched as Tommy’s hand left his and he stomped back into the living room. He could hear Tommy yelling at Techno for playing a “sick joke” on him right after the “incident”. Tubbo looked over to the stairs, footsteps weighing heavy on the ancient wood. 

Wilbur rubbed his eyes as he stood in front of the bottom step. He stared into the living room. The bags under his eyes were no longer a purple tint, but a heavy black smoke. After sinking the ball of his palm into one of his eyes, he took a left toward the kitchen. Wilbur always liked to watch Tommy overreact, what was different about this time?

“Wil! Wil can you help me get a bowl? Because I can’t reach the cabinet and all.. Haha…” Tubbo chuckled awkwardly as Wilbur only got down one bowl, taking it with him. It wasn’t for Tubbo, which meant Wilbur was ignoring him, too. He sighed, exiting the kitchen. He wasn’t really that hungry anyway. 

When he walked back into the living room, he met a sight that shocked him. Tommy was holding his head in his hands, weeping. Techno was looking at him, eyebrows lowered slightly. For people who didn’t know him, he looked annoyed by Tommy’s sadness. Tubbo knew better. Techno was a high-sympathy person, but low-empathy and compassion. He was watching Tommy cry with the most sympathy Tubbo had ever seen him have. 

Tommy sniffed and stood up, wiping his eyes with his forearm. He muttered something to Techno and headed for the stairs. Tubbo raced up the steps standing at the top.

“Tommy, why are you crying? Why aren’t you talking to me?” Tommy was half-way up the stairs. “Please, talk with me, we can work things out, right? You can tell me anything, right?” Tommy was almost to the top, when Tubbo couldn’t stand it anymore. “Please, for the love of God, look at me!” He screamed. Tommy walked right through him, literally.

Everything made sense.

**Author's Note:**

> tubbo in a box! tubbox! (but the box is a casket what an epic prank haha)  
> 000  
> comments make my day, even if they aren't in favor of the story <3


End file.
